


Chance Encounters

by ncfan



Series: Textual Ghosts [36]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood, Dysfunctional Family, Gen, Textual Ghosts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 10:53:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6326128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. A young Shuuichi gets sent off to the park one day, and makes a new friend. Sort of. Among other things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chance Encounters

What had been a quiet morning had been abruptly interrupted by the sound of something heavy falling over in Grandfather’s room and shattering. No sooner had Shuuichi looked up from his library book than his father came hurrying into his room, his lined face a bit more heavily creased than it usually was.

“Shuuichi, I want you to go to the park on the corner of Fifth.” Dad was rooting through the closet, looking for something, and he let out an exasperated breath. “Didn’t I tell you to straighten up your closet?!”

Shuuichi hunched his shoulders reflexively. “I did!” The moment the words crossed his lips, he winced, listening for any sign that his grandfather had heard.

Dad seemed to be doing the same thing, because he paused, staring in the general direction of Grandfather’s room before going on, “Don’t take that tone with me.” It was his typical response, but more absent, as was often the case when Dad was distracted by something Grandfather was doing. “We’ll talk about this later. For now—“ Dad finally seemed to have found what he was looking for, because he tossed something out to Shuuichi, a pair of socks “—go to the park and _stay_ there. I’ll pick you back up for lunch.”

A muffled shout reverberated through the house. Shuuichi jumped, and his father drew a sharp breath, his nostrils flaring. “Yes, I’m coming!” the latter shouted. He started out of Shuuichi’s room, but turned back at the door, turned a pale, angry face (Shuuichi couldn’t tell if he was angry at him, Grandfather, both or neither; it all seemed to blend together, most of the time) on his son. “Remember what I said. Don’t come back until I come to get you.”

Shuuichi stared at the empty space where his father had been, rolling his balled-up socks in his hands. That was always the way—Grandfather was angry, and Shuuichi was shooed out of the house. It used to be that he was sentenced to the yard, but as he’d gotten a little older, as Grandfather had his accident and only seemed to get angrier and angrier, as Shuuichi’s mother died, the park became the designated spot instead. There was also that one time Dad had caught him hanging around the storehouse and had gotten _really_ mad, though he never did explain why. What was in that storehouse, anyways? But that had only made him angrier.

_“Don’t ask questions, and don’t let me catch you near that storehouse again!”_

It was probably for the best, anyways. Shuuichi dreaded the days when Grandfather was in one of his foul moods, but it was raining and there wasn’t anything for him to do but sit in his room, be as quiet as possible, and try as hard as he could not to listen. There wasn’t anything he could do to help. Dad had always been pretty clear about that; his uncles, too.

(There was also that made him eager to leave, lingering in the air long after his father was gone: the sour taste of fear.)

The park was bright and hot, the air choked with humidity and the laughs and shouts of children rough-housing on the playground. A slow, lazy wind played through the green trees, but it couldn’t cut through the heat, no more than the thick air could give relief to the wilting azalea bushes in the flowerbeds. No one else seemed to care about that, though—the children played and the adults chatted amongst themselves.

Shuuichi cast an exploratory look around the playground. There _were_ a lot of kids here today; maybe some of his classmates were here too. He could at least have someone to play with while he was waiting for Dad to come get him. But while Shuuichi saw many children close to his own age, and a few whose faces he vaguely recognized, none of them were the ones he played with at recess or sat with at lunch.

 _I knew I should’ve brought my book_.

The swing-sets were all full, the monkey bars and merry-go-round were backed up, there were three kids sitting atop the dome, and the jungle gym was packed. With nothing else to do, Shuuichi crawled into one of the cubby-holes in the sprawling jungle gym. It was darker here, and cooler; Shuuichi could rest his back against the plastic wall without flinching. The noise outside grew faint and dim.

Then, it came crawling down from under his sleeve, and Shuuichi scowled, rubbing at his arm, trying to make it go away, but it was dumb to his touch, as always. “It’s you again,” he muttered, his scowl deepening. “Go away.” The lizard didn’t move. It sat there, coal-black on his lightly freckled arm. “Go away, will you?”

No answer. It didn’t budge. Shuuichi picked at his arm with his fingernails, but no matter how much he scratched at his skin, skin was all he ever felt. He could see the little ayakashi (even if no one else could) plain as day in front of him, but it was like a shadow, or a ghost—it made no physical impression.

 _Bad luck_ , ran his thoughts, sing-song. _Bad luck, it’s bad luck, just like you_. That ayakashi with the weird mask, she’d said humans couldn’t be unlucky just because they existed. But she could’ve been lying. Even if she wasn’t, it was hard to remember, when everything pointed the other way. Shuuichi kicked half-heartedly at the lines he’d drawn in the sand. They didn’t say anything, anyways.

“Are you hiding?”

A small, piping voice sounded suddenly, making Shuuichi jump. He twisted around and saw a boy about his own age peering at him from the other side of the circular opening in the cubby-hole. “No,” Shuuichi answered him shortly. “Why?”

“Some of the others are playing hide-and-seek. I thought you were too.”

“Well, I’m not.” Sometimes, when Shuuichi played hide-and-seek, what chased him wasn’t human. He didn’t like the game very much.

“That’s okay.” Without so much as a ‘May I?’, the other boy climbed inside the cubby-hole and plopped down on the ground besides Shuuichi, his thin legs stretched out on the sand. He grinned like he knew something funny. “Nobody likes it when I play hide-and-seek with them.”

Shuuichi frowned slightly. “Why not?”

The boy’s grin widened, his eyes crinkling upwards as though to laugh. “Because I’m too good at finding them.”

Shuuichi rolled his eyes. “So you mean you cheat?”

“I don’t cheat!”

“Sure you don’t. You’re just the world’s best at finding things.”

The other boy huffed and folded his arms around his chest, and stuck his tongue out at Shuuichi. “Maybe I am. Mother’s taught me how to find all sorts of things.”

Something about that reply made the hairs on the back of Shuuichi’s neck prickle. “What kind of things?” he asked curiously.

This only got him a shrug and a vague, “Things.”

“Oh.”

They sat in silence, the other boy rolling his heels back and forth while overhead there came the thundering of many pairs of feet, as children mounted the many ladders to slide down the many slides. Shuuichi stole a glance at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. He was somewhat smaller than Shuuichi, perhaps not exactly the same age as him after all. He was pale-skinned, with a round, babyish face, straight, fine black hair that fell over his face like a curtain, and wide, dark eyes that shone brightly in the shade. There was something a little weird about him, but then, Shuuichi wasn’t really one to talk about weirdness.

“I’m Seiji,” the other boy said suddenly, smiling up at Shuuichi—a smaller smile, this time, not quite so smug-looking. “I’m in first grade. What’s your name?”

“I’m Shuuichi,” he replied, a little awkwardly. “I’m in second grade. Do you… live around here?” He didn’t think he’d seen Seiji at his school.

“Nope,” Seiji told him blithely. “I live out in the country.”

“So what are you doing here? If you live in the country, isn’t there plenty of places you could play out there?”

“Maybe I wanted to play with my friends.”

“I don’t _see_ you playing with anyone.”

Seiji looked him over, slit-eyed. “Mother’s having a meeting,” he admitted. “She brought me with her.”

“Your mom’s having a meeting… in the park?” Shuuichi asked blankly. “What about?”

Outside, a loud thump sounded on the ground, then another, then another. “It’s a secret,” Seiji remarked, a sly grin sliding across his lips.

Shuuichi knew exactly what _that_ meant. “You don’t know.”

“I do too know!” Seiji protested.

“Then why’s it a secret?”

“Because—what’s that on your arm?” Seiji asked suddenly, staring at Shuuichi’s right arm in fascination.

Shuuichi chanced a glance down at his arm. It was still there; it had settled on his forearm just above his wrist. The lizard seemed to like lying there, almost like it was sunbathing, though, as ever, Shuuichi didn’t know for sure. More to the point, how was it that Seiji could see it too? Shuuichi had never met another human who could see that lizard, and Seiji didn’t look like an ayakashi to him.

“I…” If the lizard had somehow made itself visible, it didn’t matter. If Shuuichi told Seiji the truth, he’d think he was making it up. Shuuichi had never met another person who could see ayakashi; there was no one else. “…I got marker on me.”

But Seiji didn’t hear. “Ahh, it moved!” he exclaimed. He prodded at the lizard with one finger, his eyes growing rounder and rounder. “What’s an ayakashi doing in your arm?” he demanded, equal parts curiosity and indignation.

Any attempt on Shuuichi’s part to maintain reserve promptly evaporated at the word ‘ayakashi.’ “You know about ayakashi?” Before Seiji could answer, Shuuichi went on, his voice rising, “You can _see them_ _too_?!”

“Of course I can see them! I’ve always been able to see them!”

All of a sudden, Shuuichi felt like his heart was going to explode. “So have I! I’ve never met anyone else who could before!”

Seiji blinked. “Really?”

“Yes, really! Do you know anyone else who can see ayakashi?”

“Uh-huh.” Seiji’s excitement was dying off his face, his mouth pursed in a frown. “No one at school. My clan can see them, though. So…” He hesitated, his voice pitching softer than Shuuichi had heard it go before. “…Why is there an ayakashi in your arm?” As the lizard twitched up and down Shuuichi’s arm, Seiji followed its progress with his finger, poking it and frowning.

Shuuichi moved his arm away from Seiji’s hand. “It doesn’t just live in my arm,” he explained, stumbling over the words. It felt odd to talk about; his stomach churned a little. “It goes everywhere.” Well, almost everywhere. “And I don’t know why it’s there,” he muttered, not looking at Seiji.

Seiji tilted his head to one side. “That’s not right.”

“I told you everything I know,” Shuuichi said hotly.

“No, I mean ayakashi aren’t supposed to bother humans.”

“I thought that was all they did.”

“Well, they’re not supposed to!” Seiji’s voice grew hard. “Don’t you want to get rid of it? It could be cursing you!”

Shuuichi hunched his shoulders. He’d already thought about that, many times; he didn’t need to be reminded. “Of course I want to get rid of it.” He clamped his hand down over the spot where the lizard now sat. “But I don’t know how.”

Seiji was silent for a moment. He pressed the palms of his hands flat against the sand, clipping his feet back and forth so that they made a dull thud against each other. “I don’t know, either,” he admitted, frustrated. “They haven’t taught me how to do that yet.” Then, his eyes lit up. “Mother will know!” He grabbed Shuuichi’s hand with his own smaller, gritty one. “Let’s go ask her!”

“Hey, let go! Stop pulling!”

As it turned out, the fact that Seiji was smaller than Shuuichi didn’t actually mean a whole lot. He was more than strong enough to drag Shuuichi out of the cubby-hole and across the playground with him, and, moreover, he had a very strong grip. No matter how much Shuuichi protested, shoved (or tried to shove) at Seiji, or just stood still and refused to move on, he couldn’t get Seiji to let go of him, and eventually, Shuuichi gave up and just let Seiji lead him back to his mother.

Seiji took them to a secluded park bench that sat beneath a few squat maple trees and was framed by yet more azalea bushes with wilting magenta flowers. Two women sat there—one getting up and leaving, while another tucked a folder and a notebook away in a leather satchel that looked distinctly out of place next to her sky blue, flower-print dress. The woman with the satchel could only be Seiji’s mother. She was very tall and very slender, with long black hair and bright dark eyes set in a pale, clever face. Similar to Seiji, there seemed something weird about her, some knowing look to her.

Seiji waved enthusiastically to her, and when she caught sight of him, she smiled and waved back, a long lock of hair falling over her shoulder. “Oh, have you made a new friend?”

Shuuichi made one last attempt to pull his hand from Seiji’s grasp, to no avail; Seiji merely squeezed his fingers more tightly. He pulled Shuuichi along with him until the two stood in front of the former’s mother, still seated on the park bench. Seiji’s explanation came out in an excited, rapid-fire, “Mother, I found him on the playground and there’s something _weird_ about him; can you fix it?”

She frowned lightly at Seiji. “Now, Seiji, what have I told you?” she asked chidingly. “You can’t just go around calling people ‘weird’ just because of something you’ve seen, even if you have seen something strange.” She turned her gaze on Shuuichi, and her frown turned to a wry smile. “Do you think there is something ‘weird’ about you, or has my son let his imagination run away with him?”

“Well…” Shuuichi couldn’t quite meet her gaze. He could feel her eyes on him, and Seiji’s; he could feel his pulse pounding beneath Seiji’s fingers, an unsteady _‘thud-thud-THUD_.’ “…Ma’am, umm…”

“My name is Sayaka,” Seiji’s mother told him, her smile twisting to one of sympathy. “And if Seiji has made a mistake, just tell me so.”

Shuuichi shook his head, swallowing hard. At last, his hand slipped from Seiji’s slackened grasp. “N-no, he hasn’t, Sayaka-san. It’s…” He looked down at his right arm, only to find the lizard gone. “Umm, it’s…” A quick look showed that it had moved to his left arm. Shuuichi pointed the lizard out to her, wondering for one horrible moment if she would dismiss all of it, if she couldn’t even see it and Seiji had just been lying, but he pushed the thought aside. “It’s here.”

She looked to the lizard, and her eyes widened. “Oh, I see,” she murmured absently, frowning. Her gaze still fixed on Shuuichi’s arm, she reached out and stroked the back of her son’s head. “Good call, Seiji.”

“You can get rid of it, can’t you, Mother?” Seiji broke in, staring earnestly up at her.

In one swift movement, she knelt on the ground before the two boys. “Hold out your arm,” Sayaka-san told Shuuichi firmly. “I need a closer look at this.” Shuuichi wasn’t sure how he felt about yet another person he’d just met poking and prodding his arm (and especially not because of that lizard), but that tone brooked no disobedience, so he held his arm out, and she pressed her fingertips lightly against the black lizard, which showed no sign of recognizing her touch.

“Mother, can you fix it?”

“Hush, Seiji, Mother’s working.” She gnawed at her lower lip, bewildered, and said to both of them, “I’m sorry, but I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“Then can Father fix it?” Seiji insisted. “Or Nanase-san?”

“I doubt either of them have ever seen anything like this either. Ayakashi will possess humans, but I’ve never known one to do something like this.” She turned her attention back to Shuuichi, her face still painted with bewilderment. “How long has this been here?”

Shuuichi shuffled his feet, wishing that she’d take her hand off of his arm, wishing he could ask her to. “About two years,” he mumbled.

Sayaka-san nodded seriously. “Two years. And think, was there something that happened just before or afterwards this ayakashi first appeared? This is important.”

“My mom died,” Shuuichi told her flatly, jerking his arm away. “It came the day after she died.”

He could feel Seiji’s small hand plucking at his sleeve. Sayaka-san smiled sadly down at him. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said softly. “But that would suggest that there is a link.” Her eyes gleamed strangely. “Death is a doorway in.”

“Do you know how to get rid of it?” Shuuichi asked her, more desperately than he’d intended. Every attempt to make himself not care about it dropped away in the face of the possibility that she could get rid of the ayakashi. Maybe then his family would…

“As I said to my son, I really don’t know,” Sayaka-san told him. “I’ve really never seen anything like this before. But—“ she smiled encouragingly at him “—that doesn’t mean I can’t look into the matter, or ask others what they know.” She reached into her satchel and took out a notepad and pen. “I’ll need to contact you again to do that. Tell me, what is your name?”

“Oh.” It just occurred to Shuuichi that he’d never told her his name; he grimaced, embarrassed. “It’s Shuuichi. Natori Shuuichi.”

Seiji and Sayaka-san both stilled at this. The former’s eyes widened. The latter looked at Shuuichi with a slightly troubled air, her brow furrowed and her mouth pressed in a tight line.

Shuuichi took a step back from the two of them. “What… what is it?”

“Natori, huh?” Sayaka-san murmured, in a tone Shuuichi wasn’t entirely sure he liked. “Well, that is interesting.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this up yesterday, pretty much completely on a whim. Since the impression I get is that more small children can see ayakashi than adults can, I’ve had this image in my head for a long time of five-year-old Natori Shuuichi sitting down to class and a few of his classmates seeing the lizard ayakashi on him, and everything devolving into complete mayhem because of that (Since classrooms full of five-year-olds tend to be powder kegs at the best of time). I realized that this particular image does not work, since thinking back, there seem to be fewer small children who can see ayakashi than I’d originally thought, and because in the flashback chapter Shuuichi gives off the strong impression of having never met someone else who could see ayakashi before going to his first exorcist meeting. But qserasera/lady_peony said (albeit probably a while back) “but what about a childhood friends AU?”, so this is something speculative I wrote, in close to the same vein.
> 
> So we’ve got a seven-year-old Shuuichi meeting a six-year-old Seiji, both being a lot more open than they would have been if they were older. Shuuichi is more willing to talk about ayakashi, and Seiji, still very young and almost entirely ignorant of clan politics (and hasn’t yet given much thought to what his own future is, in that regard) and the nastier things that go on in the exorcist world, sees the lizard and his knee-jerk reaction is “That shouldn’t be there.”
> 
> I haven’t gone into it here in the fic (because I’m not sure how to approach it, and I’m not sure if it’s really material for a _fic_ , per se), but things would get pretty complicated after the Matoba clan finds out that the Natori have produced another child who can see ayakashi, _and_ that that child has an ayakashi hitching a ride under his skin for unknown (but in their mind, probably _not_ benign) purposes. On the one hand, the Matoba clan are as a whole intolerant enough of ayakashi giving humans grief in such a way that they’re not just going to let this pass, and the idea of the Natori clan owing them a favor, a fairly large favor too, is appealing. On the other hand, the Natori clan at this point consists of five people, and only one who can see, and since all the weight of that ‘you owe us’ would inevitably descend on Shuuichi, the only member of that clan who has any potential to become an exorcist, and he’s seven years old, the attitude expressed by most is “Wow. That’s… pretty awful. Even for us.”
> 
> The situation gets very complicated. It becomes clear to the Matoba clan exorcists dealing with Shuuichi’s family that they are (to put it lightly) extremely uncomfortable with the fact that he can see ayakashi, and learning that he’s got an ayakashi literally living under his skin doesn’t help. The Matoba clan won’t take him, because Shuuichi’s not the child of a normal family, he’s the child of an albeit defunct rival clan, clan politics are complicated and no one even knows if he even has any potential as an exorcist—or if the lizard ayakashi is potentially a malicious influence, either to Shuuichi or to those around him. And Shuuichi’s family wouldn’t part with him even if the Matoba clan would take him; as much as they resent the fact that he is, to them, a walking threat to their own safety, he is still one of them, he is their blood, and that does mean something.
> 
> And meanwhile, Shuuichi’s occupying the extremely uncomfortable position of being the person this mess is centered on, getting an earful about ayakashi and exorcism, and really not sure how he feels about either. Neither is Shuuichi sure how he feels about Seiji firmly gluing himself to his hip at every opportunity (oftentimes tagging along on the super uncomfortable meetings between the Matoba and Natori adults), but he warms up to him, eventually. It is nice to have someone his own age he can talk to about this stuff.


End file.
